7 Minutes in Hell
by GeekTard
Summary: We all know the Muggle game, 7 Minutes in Heaven, right? Fun, right? Well, let's see just how fun it is when Ginny is forced by Hermione to go to a Muggle party; the same party Draco is forced to go to, also by Hermione. Hmm...
1. Crappy Introduction

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

This can't be happening. This shouldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening.

How the hell did this happen?

Never in all my life did I think this would ever, ever happen.

If I went into the past and told myself that this would happen, I would have laughed. I wouldn't have believed that it happened. But it did.

I was expected to play 7 Minutes in Heaven with... Malfoy?

Oh, no.


	2. 7 Minutes in Hell

**AHAH, finally. Sorry I took so long, I had mountains of school work and all that great stuff. None of these characters belong to me, FYI. Enjoy! :D**

"I don't want to go!"

"You have to, Ginny."

"Said who?"

I'm Ginny. I haven't been writing because of the endless days I spent in bed biting myself for what I did. Really.

The other annoying voice was one of my best friends, Hermione Granger.

"I did!" she said as she continued pushing me out my own front door. Or trying to, actually. Not a very strong girl physically, Hermione. Bloody smart, though.

"No!" I replied, both of my hands on the door frame and my arms straight (as to prevent myself from being pushed out of said door), and my feet planted firmly on the ground. See, all the fuss is coming from Hermione wanting me to go to some Muggle party. A Muggle party! Now I _am_ a Gryffindor, and normally a rather adventurous girl (if I do say so myself) but really? Where's the adventure, the excitement in a party with no magic? It's like a chocolate chip cookie—without the chocolate. (Remus would have been sad at that.)

How in the world do Muggles get by without magic, anyways? All of the things they can't do... I almost feel sorry for them.

Anyways, Hermione was now back-to-back with me, pushing all of her weight onto me. I lost an inch. Hey, we'd been going on at this for nearly twenty minutes, so maybe I was just a bit tuckered. Panting, I said not for the first time that night, "Hermione! I—DON'T—WANT—TO—GO!"

Hermione just grunted, still trying her hardest. Eugh. I've really had enough of this. I sighed, then just let go of the door frame. Expertly, I stopped myself before I could hit the ground and caught Hermione, too. She squealed. "Ah! Ginevra, don't, _do not_, ever, ever do that again!" She whined as she straightened up.

Her normally bushy brown hair had been recently straightened with a can of Sleakeasy's. She was wearing some weird Muggle-style dress I don't have the name for. It showed a lot of skin, a lot more than I usually saw of Hermione, I'll say that. It was red and sort of frilly but I admit, it did look good on her. She had made me dress the same way: Muggle-style. My dress was a pale-ish green, and a pretty simple one, with black heels. When she showed me in the mirror how I looked before I just crossed my arms, but it really did look quite nice, even if I didn't admit it.

She crossed her arms, like I had before, and stared at me. It was about ten, a clear night in July, not steaming and not chilly, but with a slight, comfortable breeze. "Have you given up yet?"

I didn't say no. "Why do you want me to go, anyways?"

"Because you've been so bored. Yes, you have, I can tell. It's already been almost two years since the Battle. You never seem to think anything's exciting anymore. And you and I both know that you and Harry aren't as close as you were. Pshaw, you guys are practically over. Don't deny it; you're thinking the same thing, I bet. You need something new, Gin! To get out!"

I couldn't help thinking she was right. It's been so long. Harry's an Auror, now, too, so busy all the time. The last time I'd seen him was probably almost a week ago. And even then, we barely even talked. I guess I have to face it. We're done. Easy as that. And, I haven't done _anything_ fun in a while. Well, I haven't done anything, period. Who knows, this might be interesting. I sighed.

"Fine. I'll go, Mya. You win."

She beamed. "I always do!" Then she grabbed my arm and pulled me to her. "Ready?" she asked.

"No."

She laughed, then firmly stated, "Disapparate!"

*

What was this song? I swear, it was the bomb. This band's got nothing on the Wicked Sisters, of course, but still. It wasn't a live band, but it was being played rather loudly on the stereos, which were taller than I was. Hermione was right next to me, jumping and dancing. We were in some bloke's house, which was pretty big. The lights were all out except for a couple of lamps and a disco ball or two dangling around. The music was so loud it was making my heart jump to the beat of the bass. I rather liked that feeling, though. The music plus the chatter of over a hundred people crammed into what looked like a very large and very TP'd living room equaled me not being able to hear anything. This feeling was really enjoyable though, too.

We had Disapparated to an alley in Muggle London. When we emerged, right there was the house we were in right now. On the large porch, there was a crowd of people, half of them making out. The other half were either drunk, drinking, or shouting, "PARTY!! COME ON IN, *BEACHES*!!" (Yea, I censored it for you.) Hermione smiled at me, took hold of my arm again, and pulled me in. Oh, joy.

I had to admit, I was having a pretty good time. I was just about to start dancing with this cute boy right in front of me when a hand took my arm (too much arm-grabbing here, if you ask me) and dragged me through the crowd to a corner of the gigantic room. I saw the Muggle boy's face: excited blue eyes, round face, thick eyebrows and a wide, toothy grin with a breath that smelled faintly of beer. Somebody's been drinking. (Well, everybody has, except me and Hermione.)

"Enjoying the party, love?" he asked in a rough voice, as if he'd just taken a turn standing outside and shouting at passersby to come in. He was still holding my arm; he held on tighter as I fought to get away.

I stopped and just replied, "Sure, big boy!" Keep in mind that we're shouting over the noise.

His grin got bigger. "Well, it's just about to get better," he said, dragging me towards a door. He pulled it open and pushed me in. It was a coat closet, I think. I smashed against the back wall and just was about to get up when a body, a heavier, harder one, was smashed against _me_. Some random bloke had been shoved in as well. "Oh!" I gasped as he fell on me.

"Enjoy your seven minutes in Heaven, kids!" said Roughy as he slammed the door shut. And by the sounds of it, locked it, too.

What the hell?

It was pitch black in here. I couldn't see a thing.

My closet mate and I groaned as we tried to get up at the same time and bonked our heads together. "Watch it, Muggle!" he said. He sounded familiar.

We stood up quickly. It was a very small space, and it was hard to stand up comfortably and not touch each other.

" 'Muggle'?" I repeated. Was this guy a wizard?

"Yes. That's what you are, you filthy, stupid piece of filth!" I smelt a bad breath. Alcohol. This wizard had been drinking. And he still sounded familiar...

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Who are _you_? Merlin's Y-fronts; trapped in a freaking closet with a M-Muggle, wait till—till Dad hears _this_..."

Then my brain snapped. I knew who this was. The last line really helped. Who else would tell on his Father? None other than Draco Malfoy.

...

MERLIN THE GREAT'S MOST BAGGY PAIR OF PINK Y-FRONTS. WHAT THE HELL WAS I DOING IN A CLOSET WITH DRACO MALFOY?!?!

"Draco Malfoy?!" I said.

I cursed to myself. I didn't have my wand on me; I'd left in with Hermione.

"Yea," he said. "Who're _you_?"

"L-lumos!" he grunted. A sudden burst of light exploded from a wand in his hand. I could see his pale, pointed face and silver blonde hair. Yes, it was most unfortunately Malfoy.

"Weasley!" he gasped, in late surprise. "Look! It's you! What're you doing here?!"

I stared at him.

An idea struck me. He had a wand. He _had_ a _wand_. A magical stick that could get us out of here.

"Draco," I said, ignoring his previous question, "unlock the door. You know how. 'Alohamora'. Come on. Say it."

"No!" he said defiantly. "Why should I listen to you?"

Because I want to get out of here.

"Y'know, I'm beginning to think you don't want to be in here with me!" he exclaimed.

"I don't," I replied, reaching for his wand.

"Aw, don't hurt my feelings!" he said, raising it high over his head so I couldn't reach it. Damn my shortness.

"I will!" I said, now jumping in an attempt to attain his wand. No such luck for me.

"No!" he barked. He thrashed his wand-arm, I heard a snap, and the light went out. He didn't.

"Now you can't get it!" he gloated.

He did. He broke his wand. He smashed it on the wall. And he broke it. He shoved something in my hand. It was two pieces of a broken wand. His. Damn it.

"Ha!" he laughed. Oh God.

I laughed too, but not a ha-ha-laugh. I laughed an I'm-going-crazy-laugh. "Look what you've done! What the hell have you done?! Look what—auughh! Great. Super."

"I know, isn't it?" he said. Eugh.

"Terrific. What _now_, huh, smart-ass?"

It was silent.

"Well..." he mused.

...

What? "What?" I said.

...

"Well... We _could_ make out."

I choked. "WHAT?!? NO WAY MALFOY, I'M NOT—"

I got cut off. Draco grabbed me and pushed his lips onto mine. He wrapped his arms around me tightly. After a couple seconds, I stopped fighting. I stopped thinking. I just... followed.

Well. You know the rest.

Five minutes later there was a heavy banging on the door. Wow, these Muggles were punctual.

"Time to get out, dung bags!" said the said rough bloke who had pushed us in.

Aw. Time's up? Already?

Without a word, Draco and I stepped out and walked opposite directions away from each other.

Ugh, he's _so_ going to tell. Harry's going to kill me, I thought.

**DRACO's POV:**

Ugh, she's _so_ going to tell. Harry's going to kill me, I thought.

**C: The End. Hope you enjoyed. REVIEW! (Although if it's gonna be about the lag, don't bother.)**


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